Common World Domination
by soapscent
Summary: The day will come when all "thank you"s "good morning"s and "i'm sorry"s will become words in a fond old memory, so; somebody, somebody, save everybody!
1. You Shouldn't trust Fortune Cookie Slips

OK SO I UPDATED IT AGAIN BC IT WAS WAY TOO SHORT THE FIRST TIME. PLEASE ENJOY AND LEAVE A REVIEW.

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Prologue

The inside of the car was hot and stuffy.

The taxi, a 1983 model Peugeot 205, contained two occupants: the stout and somewhat laconic driver and a lanky, droopy-eyed youth.

A cottony silence permeated the thick heat of the vehicle, a calming white noise provided by the gentle thrum of the motor as the cab sped along the cracked concrete. Renata Andoloro, age 17, slumped against the filmy glass of the backseat window. Heavy-lidded eyes gazed intently over the passing scenery.

This was her first summer away from home, away from _zio _Romano. She cringed at the thought of home, and of her adoptive uncle back in Ardea. She wished she could take back everything she'd said, all those horrible things that made his kind, crinkled, eyes water. Rena groaned quietly and butted her head against the window.

What a stupid argument it had been too. Her slacking off in school and persistent delinquency had earned her a well-deserved summer trip to a boot camp near the Vicovaro commune.

She hated making her _zio_ upset like this, but she hated school, hated those kids who stared and laughed when she fumbled over these difficult questions about old dead guys and chemistry equations, hated those teachers that yelled at her and threatened her with detention for never doing anything right. Well, at least in boot camp she wouldn't have to do any schoolwork. She made a face at her reflection through the grimy fingerprints on the window.

The suburban scenery gave way to a rural view, until all signs of human life disappeared completely. Even the concrete road gave way to a sandy dirt path. The cab shook violently, not unlike an old man possessed by the flu. The engine let out a series of long, shuddering, coughs before jerking to a stop. The driver slammed a fist on the wheel, muttering several obscenities under his breath before turning towards Renata.

"_Mi dispiace, Signorina. _It would appear that the car is broken. Please wait while I call the mechanics." He turned around again and pulled out a small cellphone, only to have a few crumpled euros deposited in his lap. The car door opened, followed by a grunt and the shuffling of a map.

"_No grazie, signore! _I'll go on by myself from here. It should be close by."

The cabbie twisted around, once again, just as Renata stepped out from the back seat.

"Wait! _Signorina,_ you can't go that way! That entire stretch is private property!" The youth was now at least a yard or so away, throwing a casual wave over her shoulder. He groaned in frustration, rolling down the car window to shout one last warning. "Rumors say that it's own by the mafia!"

But Renata Andoloro was now no more than a tiny speck among the daunting blackness of the pine trees lining the horizon, far too distant to hear what he had to say.

* * *

Meanwhile a half a mile or so away, the austere, iron-gated, form of Varia HQ rose up ominously out of the denseness of the surrounding forest, steep terraces and angled rooftops shining under the late-morning sun.

Now, upon observing such an orderly and pristine-looking structure, the viewer might have believed the same about the mansion's occupants. That might've been true, in any other case. However, being that the facility belonged to the Vongola Family's independent assassination squad, it was probably the only exception.

As if to further prove the point, a series of shouts echoed from the 3rd floor, followed by a smashing of glass and gunshots. The sudden noise startled a nearby flock of crows, which scattered into the cloudless blue sky, protesting loudly.

"_VOOOOOOOOI! _STOP THROWING FOOD AT MEETINGS, PUNKS!" Superbi Squalo, second-in-command of the Varia, was known as an excellent swordsman, the best of the best. The new Sword Emperor, even, since the defeat of Tyr. However, the supposed best swordsman in the world was currently unable to stop his subordinates from hurling Chinese take-out at each other across the meeting table.

" Ushishishi~ relax vice-captain. I'll stop as soon as this peasant is ready to admit defeat." The youngest commanding officer, Belphegor, grinned out from underneath his thick bangs. A small, cloaked, figure sat on the table next to him, a crisp wad of euros in one hand.

"Muu, stop wasting food, Bel. Food is money." Mammon did not look up from his counting, but simply pursed his lips in distaste.

" Ushishi, don't be such a hardass, Mammon." The self-proclaimed prince leaned over in his seat, and chucked another handful of chow mein at Lussuria, who had the misfortune of sitting across from him.

The older man, clad in sunglasses, gracefully reached up and caught the spinning noodle ball on his plate. He grimaced a little as a stray piece of shrimp bounced off the rim of his sunglasses, eliciting a giggle out of Bel.

"Now, now, let's all just sit down and finish eating so our dear vice-captain Squalo can make his announcement hm~?" Belphegor, seemingly ignoring him, grabbed a fortune cookie out of the pile on the center of the table.

"Shishishi~ hey Mammon, did you know? Fortune cookies were invented in America, not China." He cracked open the pale orange dessert, laughing as though he'd just told the most hilarious joke he had ever heard. Mammon, on the other hand, kept counting his euros with a quick and steady hand.

"_Voi,_ can we finally get started?!" Squalo sighed, dragging a hand across his face. Meetings with the entire Varia were difficult enough to plan out, but actually getting through one was a completely different story.

Bel looked down at the slip of paper in his palms, ever-present grin suddenly gone from his face. Putting on what he assumed was a perplexed look, he tapped Mammon's shoulder.

"Oi. Mammon. What does this mean?"

Mammon, being the ever-patient soul he was, successfully resisted the urge to send the blonde youth beside him out of the nearby window and into the large marble fountain 3 stories below.

"What is it, Bel? This better be important. Time is money, you know."

Belphegor, upon hearing what he thought was a tone of approval, eagerly shoved a small slip of paper underneath the illusionist's hood.

Mammon jerked back, maintaining his grip on his precious euros. But as his eyes focused in on the neat blue Times New Roman print, in a rare display of disbelief, he allowed the crisp bills to slip from his hand.

_Today's treasure will come in the form of destructive change._

"I know right? Is this weird or what?" Bel leaned in towards the infant, a disturbingly serious expression etched across what was exposed of his features. Mammon began to shake.

"You. You made me lose track of my counting. For a fortune. Cookie. Slip."

The remaining members began to take notice of the commotion. Squalo scrambled towards the two, unfilled mission reports flying out of his hand.

"_VOOOOI! _NOT IN THEMEETING ROOM, _MIO DIO _NOT IN THE MEETING ROO-"

3 stories below, numerous Varia officers and grunts shielded their heads as red and purple smoke billowed out from a shattered window-followed by a shower of broken glass, burnt chow mein, and chunks of plaster-then proceeded to continue their daily activities.

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ok so that's that. and just a few clarifications- zio means uncle (although you've probably figured that out already) and the time is set during the 8 year period when Xanxus is frozen (although it's probably a little more towards the end of those 8 years, so expect to see Xanxus very very soon!)

and please. please review. review so that I know people actually care about this story and if there's anything I'm doing wrong (pace too fast? too slow?) and please let me know if there's anything you'd like me to add in!


	2. The Only Way to Leave the Varia is

alright…now it begins! (kind of)

sorry it took so long to pump out the second chapter…,, i wasn't too sure of how to make this sound...

anyways, please enjoy!

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Chapter 1

The dense branches of Monterey pines filtered out most of the harsh noon sunlight, a fact that made Rena feel grateful as she trudged through thick underbrush and thorny blackberry brambles.

It had been at least a few hours or so since she last left the cabbie out on the road. She pulled out the crumpled map from inside her backpack, not that it had helped her much up until now. Running a hand over her sweaty scalp, the youth squinted at the blank green next to the road from which she had come.

"_Che cazzo_…there's nothing on here." Renata muttered, slowing her pace to shove the crinkled paper back into the bag-and slammed headfirst into a low-hanging branch. The thick wood snapped, sending out a spray of splinters that scattered the small gnats circling about the dappled beams of sunlight.

The sudden impact landed Rena on her back, forcing air from her lungs. She grunted, propping herself up onto her elbows, only to be knocked back down with a branch to the face. The girl gave up, throwing up her arms limply.

"Ok!"

.

.

.

A few meters not far from where our protagonist lay, the Varia training committee was holding its annual recruitment orientation. Leonardo Brioschi, as Head of the Varia Training Committee, oversaw the orientation and recruitment of future Varia members. In other words, Brioschi broke in the newbies, a job that he enjoyed immensely.

However, as he scanned the faces of this year's potential recruits, he was somewhat disappointed.

'Che, half of these maggots won't last even a fourth of the way in,' he thought to himself, arms crossed over his broad chest.

In the distance, a loud thud rumbled through the tree-lined horizon, scattering birds into the air.

Brioschi raised an eyebrow at the sound. One of the newbies trying to escape, perhaps? No matter. The woods bordering the Varia training grounds was thick enough to the point of being pitch black in some places, in addition to being filled with hidden traps and dangerous wildlife. Escape, or entry in some cases, was impossible for the average human.

.

.

.

A short distance away, a lanky figure with unkempt hair burst out of the forest's edge, doubling over with hands on their knees.

Renata wheezed, brushing spider webs and stray leaves from her shoulders. She'd lost her map a few moments ago in the second land mine she accidentally walked into.

The first had sent her diving into a pitfall, which was, thankfully, empty. However, a secret switch released a pack of wild dogs, which Rena had distracted with the remnants of her lunch while she attempted to scramble out of the ditch.

An electric fence, two-dozen poison-tipped arrows, and a rope snare later, she made it out somewhat alive and well.

After catching her breath, Renata stood up. She could hear faint voices in the distance. Shouldering her torn backpack, Rena pinched out the flames on the ends of her singed hair and followed the sounds.

.

.

.

As she rounded the bend of trees, Renata came upon a gathering of 70 to 80 people, currently being herded into a line by stern-looking officials.

Rubbing a hand across her forehead, the disheveled youth whistled.

"Daaamn. Now that's a crowd."

Her musings were suddenly cut short as a nearby soldier pushed her towards the throng of recruits, right into the jut of someone's elbow.

"ACK!"

Rena stumbled, swept along helplessly by the sheer force of the mob. A little ways off, the mass of people spread out evenly into neat rows split into square sections as a tall man with a clipboard walked up and down among the columns.

"Who's that?" she whispered. "Is he the instructor?"

A soft, clear, voice to her right answered back.

"That's Instructor Brioschi, head of the Training Committee. He's an ex-commander who retired because of back injuries to become a new recruit trainer."

Renata whipped her head around, earning a disgruntled squawk from the guy on her left as her hair slapped him on the face.

"Heyyyy you seem to know a lot about this, huh brainiac?" she grinned.

The boy standing to her left smiled sheepishly, scratching his neck.

"I-I guess you could say that…" he muttered. "Rumor says that he really loves breaking down the newbies."

He let out a small 'eep!' and looked away again upon meeting the other's gaze. It was kind of creepy, that blank stare and wide grin…

"So, what's your name buddy? I'm Renata Andoloro, but feel free to call me Rena. Nice to meet ya." She stuck out a hand.

The shorter boy reluctantly reached out, letting out a small whimper as she pumped his hand furiously. A small series of cracks could be heard as she let go of the abused appendage.

"My name is Paolo…" he whispered, cradling his hand. "Say, Renata—er, Rena. What brings you to join the Varia?" Her face suddenly drooped, previously cheery attitude flushing down the drain. Paolo flinched, startled.

"My uncle sent me here for the summer because I kept slacking off in school. Tch, oh well, it's better than having to go to summer school."

The boy next to her turned pale. " _Mio dio_, joining the Varia as punishment for something like _that_?!"

Renata raised an eyebrow. "Well, it's not really like it's the first time I've been to boot camp. I mean, it is my first time at this one but it can't be much different from all the other ones I've been to, right?"

Oh god, Paolo thought, realization dawning upon his face. She doesn't know.

The low murmuring of the crowd suddenly began to fade away.

"No you don't understand, Rena, the only way to leave the Varia is—"

_Shhhhhh! _Somebody in the row behind them hissed.

"Brioschi is here!"

"That's ok Paolo, you can tell me later." The taller of the two whispered.

'_No!' _Paolo wailed inside of his head.

'_What I meant to say was: the only you can leave the Varia is in a coffin!'_

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alright! that's it for the second chapter folks! tell me what you think so far, of the characters and the chapter! i know some of you might feel disappointed at the lack of canon presence so far, but do not worry! they'll be here soon. review please!


	3. Nonna's Famous Sfogliatelle

Leonardo Brioschi paced slowly across the ranks of newcomers, steely gaze sweeping over their rigid, trembling, forms.

He snorted mentally. Typical. Even the bravest of souls sported beads of sweat as he approached them.

As Brioschi moved, he took note of those who looked strong and those who had high potential, as few as they were. The slim, beady-eyed male with stubble- does not appear to be extremely strong in the physical sense, but has a cunning sort of look. On his left, 2 rows down, a stocky woman with dark skin and a determined face- definitely strong, able.

A sudden bout of whispering roused his attention.

The rhythmic clack of his boots slowed to a stop. Brioschi turned towards the noise. A scrawny, black-haired boy was frantically shushing the youth next to him, as she attempted to converse with him.

His brow creased, a vein popping into view on his right temple.

"YOU THERE!" he barked, causing the surrounding recruits to flinch simultaneously.

"WHAT DO YOU THINK THIS IS? KINDERGARTEN?!" Brioschi stalked towards the two figures in question.

The tall one scrambled to get back in position, while the shorter one shot the other a heated glare.

The instructor surveyed the scene in front of him. The short one looked absolutely mortified. Upon Brioschi's approach, he had immediately snapped into a perfect salute. He smirked. What a scrub. Brioschi was willing to bet that this kid wore tighty whities on a regular basis.

"I-I'm very sorry sir! It won't h-happen again!" the short one stuttered, shaking. Leonardo ignored him and focused his deathly gaze on the main perpetrator of this small fiasco.

Upon first glance, the only thing he could focus on was the enormous squirrel's nest of hair, somehow pulled into a bushy bird's tail. (How is this even possible….is that even hair?) Sitting underneath the chestnut fluff was a pair of owlish eyes, evenly spaced on either side of a rather prominent nose. (That blank stare….it's kind of creepy actually…)

There was not an ounce of fear written on that face, and whether it was an insane amount of courage or stupidity (It was probably stupidity) the gangly youth managed to stare Brioschi right in the face.

"What's your name, soldier?!" He boomed with the wrath of a vengeful god. The blast of air forced the surrounding recruits to duck for cover.

"Renata Andoloro, sir!" She snapped into a hasty salute, breaking out into a large grin.

"Listen here, Andoloro." Brioschi growled, looming over the oblivious teen. "This is the _Varia Recruitment _camp_. Not_ your personal playpen. If I hear one more _peep _out of you, it's lights out for both you _and _you friend. **_Got it?_**"

He enunciated each word with a sharp jab to the forehead, giving Rena an appearance somewhat similar to that of a bobble head figurine.

"Sir yes SIR!" She nodded enthusiastically, adding onto the others' image of her as a bobble head-like persona.

Brioschi gave the lanky recruit one last glare before turning abruptly on his heels and stalking off towards the next rank.

The instructor closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. That one definitely wouldn't make it in.

.

.

.

"_Attenzione! _All recruits must report to the West Wing Training Grounds in 15 minutes!"

After 20 minutes or so after the bobble head fiasco, a nasally voice blared out over the ranks of recruits, shaking Paolo out of his thoughts. He'd begun sulking ever since the instructor stormed off after Renata made a public embarrassment out of them.

"Look Paolo, it's _alright_ it wasn't that big of a deal!" Rena tried to reassure the frazzled young man by profusely smoothing his hair.

He sank even deeper into his terror, not even attempting to bat off her hands.

"That's it. _Mio Dio_, This is the end. He's going to make sure that we never make it through the entrance exams alive."

Each of Paolo's frightened whispers was enunciated by the constant wringing of his hands.

Already, the crowd in front of them was shuffling forward, slowly but surely. If there had been any time for regret, it had all washed down the drain now. A stocky man with a megaphone continued to give orders with that painfully nasal voice, directing the flow of people left and right.

It suddenly occurred to Paolo that they were being divided into groups. And as they passed a guard who handed slips of paper to each passing individual, he realized that they were most likely being separated based on the instructor's personalized report for each potential recruit.

There was no longer any point in hoping to utilize the anonymity offered by the crowd.

They were babes in the woods.

.

.

.

The West Wing Training Grounds were surprisingly bare, Renata thought.

The empty field of grass did seem to raise suspicions. However, a select few in the crowd muttered among themselves, exchanging knowing glances.

(Don't tell me…. is he planning on doing _that_ this year?)

(I've only ever heard it was a rumor…please doesn't tell me we're actually going to do _that_!)

Rena began to sweat at the ominous whispers circulating amongst their group. Naturally, she turned towards the shorter male, and dealt him a semi-fatal jab to the ribs.

"Hey Paolo, what's going on?"

After doubling over and coughing a couple of times, he straightened out again and croaked out a response.

"I…I don't know…this isn't what they usually have planned! Usually…usually, we go through an endurance test, consisting of push-ups, sit-ups, and free sparring with the other groups…and…"

Paolo trailed off, voice thinning into a meek whisper.

Brioschi stepped forward again, looking over the newly formed groups. Clearing his throat and intensifying his gaze, the whispers quickly died down.

"As some of you may have realized, we are having a change of plans this year. Our entrance exam will be different this time.

Now, each of your groups will be assigned a map, a compass, a watch, and one bag of supplies. Each group will be flown to the edge of the borders of the facility via helicopter.

You have exactly 48 hours to return to this location. The first 3 groups to make it back alive will qualify as new recruits. The rest will be…dismissed."

There was a collective stunned silence, before a wave of shocked whispering engulfed the entire field-only to die out once again as Leonardo Brioschi cleared his throat loudly.

"The helicopters are waiting in the next field over. You may proceed in numerical order according to the slips given to each group. I wish you luck."

Paolo looked over at Renata, who had been uncharacteristically quiet during Brioschi's short speech. She was staring straight ahead, a blank grin nearly splitting her face in two.

He startled, suppressing a shudder. And in that moment, Paolo prayed to any celestial being that might've chanced to hear his pleas-for him to please, please make it out of this alive, even if it meant giving up the last of his _nonna_'s _sfogliatelle_ (which was currently placed inside of his satchel, carefully wrapped in aluminum foil.)

The loud whirring of helicopter blades shook him out of his pastry-induced stupor.

"Come on Paolo! Let's get in already!" Renata waved him over.

There was (unfortunately) no longer any room for escape.


	4. Over the River and through the Woods

HEY. OK FIRST OF ALL. GOD. I AM SO SORRY.

I'm literally the world's most horrible updater, and I've never been able to update consistently BUT!

I'm going to try and change that, so please accept this long-awaited fourth chapter!

Please enjoy, and tell me what you think!

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Chapter 4

[48:0:0]

Twilight approached rapidly, stretching a variety of long shadows across the purple-hued forest floor.

Paolo shivered, the lack of sunlight swiftly plunging the woods into a dusky chill. He glanced towards the new members of their group: the tall, beady-eyed fellow and the stocky, stoic-faced woman from before.

A few yards in front, Renata led the way, bulldozing a path through the dense greenery that lay before them.

The man and woman introduced themselves as Alfonso and Miriam, respectively. Both were sent to join as an act of prestige rather than as a punishment (to which Paolo rolled his eyes, seeing as Renata was confirmed to be a complete outlier in her case.) Alfonso seemed like a bit of a sleaze in his opinion, while Miriam was most definitely best suited to being the leader of their little group.

"It's about time to set up camp." Miriam glanced up at the darkening sky.

Paolo sighed in relief, dropping his satchel to the ground. His aching feet nearly screamed aloud in joy.

He grimaced as he caught sight of Renata in the distance, finally snapping out of her tree-wrecking frenzy, not a bit less energetic than before.

"That one's a real monster, huh?"

Alfonso dropped down next to him with a soft thud.

Paolo flinched in surprise, before replying miserably.

"Yea, you could say that again…"

"In that case, I'm glad we're not competitors here, or we would be in trouble!"

Alfonso chuckled lowly, unaware of the frightened look that twisted over the face of his companion.

The cause for that terror bounded towards them eagerly, Miriam in tow.

"Bad news you guys! Miriam says we can't start a fire because it would attract the attention of other groups! She says they're likely to be out to get us while we're resting!"

Renata grinned like the "bad news" was the best she'd ever heard. Paolo felt obligated to cringe, but his facial muscles were now far too sore to respond.

"There are heat blankets inside our supply bag. We will take turns keeping watch and leave as soon as it is light enough to see."

Miriam joined their circle, pulling the necessary supplies out of the communal survival kit:

\- A canteen of water and 2 calorie food bars for each person

\- Heat blankets (4)

\- A compass

\- A map

\- 4 watches that all read '45:30:26'

She looked around after distributing the goods.

"If there are no objections to this plan, then I propose we get to sleep quickly. I will take first watch."

Renata cheered, and setting down her newfound possessions, began to rapidly dig at the forest floor.

Paolo refrained from a spit-take as she burrowed into the newly-dug pit, blanket pulled under her nose. He didn't know if he'd been expecting anything less.

As he stretched out underneath his own blanket however, Paolo lost consciousness almost as quickly as his new friend…

.

.

.

[38:30:15]

The pale light of predawn found the foursome setting out from camp, the brisk morning chill hastening their footsteps into a half-jog. It is almost half an hour in before Miriam increased her pace, muttering a low warning as she passed the rest of the members.

"_We're being followed."_

Renata grinned ( not a bit out of breath, as enviously noted by a gasping Paolo) in acknowledgment.

"There's nothing wrong with that is there? The point of this test is just to get back to the finish line right? It's not like there's an award for being first, since we all have the same deadline."

"Fool!"

Miriam interjected, visibly disturbed by the sudden turn of events.

"The instructor said only the first 3 groups will pass, and it's already the second day. People are growing desperate. Knowing the type of people who'd qualify as potential Varia members, they're definitely here to finish off the competition."

Paolo screamed mentally. As if they needed any more obstacles when they were already lost in this death-trap of a forest.

His thoughts were rudely interrupted by a sharp whistling past his ear.

Paolo screamed again (out loud, this time).

"IS THAT A GUN?!"

"Nope! Those are blow-darts!"

A cheerful voice resounded from his right, and Paolo turned to see Renata jogging up beside him, a multitude of said blow darts sticking out of her back. He screamed yet again.

"Jesus, will you cut that out? It's really starting to hurt my ears."

Alfonso appeared next to her, with equally as many darts bristling from the back of his head.

"YOUR EARS SHOULDN'T BE THE ONLY THINGS THAT ARE HURTING!"

Miriam pulled up to Paolo's left.

" On the count of 3, let's stop and split up. I'm more than capable of holding them off if it's one-on-one,and I am sure that I can assume the same for the rest of us."

"3."

Paolo began to sweat, a thousand objections collecting on the tip of his tongue.

"2."

On either side of him, his comrades tensed.

"1."

"W-wait a minute, I-"

"_**Now!"**_

Alfonso dropped to the ground, rolling underneath a bush.

Miriam swung onto a low-hanging branch, before disappearing into the darkened canopy.

Rena somersaulted into a pile of leaves, knocking over Paolo in the process.

.

.

.

A hush fell over the clearing.

Paolo wheezed, clutching his leg (which he'd twisted on the way down). Nearby, Renata's head poked out from the leaf pile.

"Why did you do that?!"

He took the chance to hiss at her through the pain, despite having little to no effect in intimidating the youth whatsoever.

"Heheh, sorry!"

Renata chirped back, the leaves in her hair suddenly becoming a temporary home for a family of chipmunks.

They sat silent for a moment, as the woodland creatures crawled over her face. The sounds of their pursuers had all but faded into the rustle of leaves and steady sawing of cicadas.

A sudden chill pierced through Paolo's body, the hairs on his neck standing on end. The feeling of unease was so sudden, so strong, he barely restrained the nausea tugging at the bottom of his stomach. Shaking, the boy turned to his companion.

"Rena. _Someone's coming_."


	5. To Grandmother's House We Go

Hey what's up! I'm back with a new chapter (which I've painstakingly attempted to make longer)

Please enjoy! and drop a review too if you'd please :'3c I'd really like some feedback as to how this is going!

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Chapter 5

A rustle in the bushes to their left, and a sliver of hair rose out of the foliage.

Within seconds, Renata plucked a chipmunk out of her hair and hurled it with blinding speed towards the emerging mass.

The small woodland creature let loose a screech of terror as it made impact with the man's face, and as all small woodland creatures are apt to do in the face of danger, it promptly shat itself.

The unfortunate attacker made a choking noise as his source of oxygen was cut off by chipmunk feces, and flailed backwards in an attempt to escape.

His asphyxiation only increased in capacity as Renata slammed an elbow into his gut.

The man fell over with a loud thud before the minute was over.

Paolo's jaw dropped.

"Alright, let's go find everybody else!"

Renata dusted her hands after removing the rest of the chipmunks, and grinned over at her friend.

.

.

.

A few minutes' time found the group reunited at the center of the small clearing, a variety of misshapen and prone forms crumpled about their feet.

[32:12:05]

"It's almost noon." Miriam began, glancing at her watch. "We should pick up the pace now, before any more of them arrive."

Under the stifling heat of mid-day, the four companions set forth.

.

.

.

Another hour or so after an excruciating journey past motion-sensing lasers, 2 pits of quicksand, and a pack of highly territorial, flesh-eating,birds, the four members sat down for a 15 minute water break.

Paolo's twisted leg was now aching so badly that he was forced to cling to Renata's back in a manner not unlike that of a baby koala. The taller youth carefully sank to the ground as her friend peeled himself off of her sweaty back, before sprawling out completely, limbs askew.

"Man, this is some entrance exam, huh?"

Despite the remnants of chipmunk fur in her hair and blowdart holes splayed across her backside, Rena flashed Paolo a dazzling grin.

Christ, thought Paolo, nursing his sore honestly has to be a work of nature.

Meanwhile, Miriam dug through their bag worriedly.

"The map.." she muttered anxiously, "it's gone…"

Paolo's head snapped up as he choked on his two day old sfogliatelle, which he had been desperately protecting from Rena's greedy paws.

"WHAT?!" He screamed, spraying a mouthful of crumbs across the taller youth's face.

"H-how are we going to get back now..?"

Miriam wordlessly pinched the bridge of her nose. It was uncharacteristic of her to behave this carelessly.

"Paolo~ Per favore just give me a piece~!"

Rena whined, once again reaching for the pastry. Paolo snatched it away almost instantaneously.

"I already told you no! This is the last of my nonna's sfogliatelle!"

"Aw...don't you have any more?" Her shoulders sagged almost comically.

He sat back, sighing.

"I did, but I think I dropped it somewhere back before we boarded the helicopters."

"Then I'll find it for you!"

Renata jumped up, a determined look spread across her features.

"Huh?!"

"If I find that sfogliatelli, then will you let me have it?"

Paolo scoffed.

"We can't even find our way out of this godforsaken forest, and you want to find a pastry that I dropped over a day ago?"

Renata grinned in response.

"Just watch. I'll track it down!"

Ignoring Paolo's squawks of protest, she leaned over to the half-eaten pastry in his hand and inhaled deeply.

"Hey! What're you-"

The youth quickly scrambled up the nearest tree, nose turned to the sky.

"...What the fuck is happening now?"

Alfonso stopped beside Paolo, shading his eyes as they watched their comrade sniff the air frantically.

"It's this way!"

Leaping forth from the tree, Renata eagerly bounded in a random direction.

"W-WAIT UP! WHAT ABOUT MY LEG?!"

Paolo wailed in dismay as he desperately hobbled after his friend.

Miriam interrupted as Alfonso began to follow.

"You too Alfonso? Surely you're not going to trust something as ridiculous as this?"

He chuckled amusedly.

"This seems interesting, that's all. I'd like to see how things turn out from here."

The shorter woman deflated as he trailed in the footsteps of their eager companions, before following reluctantly.

.

.

.

[29:45:17]

Paolo fought the urge to break down in frustration as Rena pulled them along doggedly (in a literal sense). Nearby, Alfonso glanced about uneasily.

"Does anyone else hear that?"

The group screeched to a halt.

As if to answer him, a line of whizzing darts embedded themselves into a nearby tree.

Paolo screamed as they began to sprint.

"

Paolo screamed as they broke into a sprint.

"Che, looks like they're after us again."

Miriam muttered under her breath, hoisting their shared bag onto her shoulders as she ran.

"Looks like we were too soft with them last time, heheh."

Alfonso's genial smile suddenly became unnerving.

The blow darts stopped, and turned into flaming arrows.

Paolo yelped as one of them nearly grazed his shoulder, clutching onto Renata, who was currently sporting a stylish charbroiled hairdo.

She scooped him up like a sack of flour and continued their mad dash. Up ahead, a rusted sign reading 'CAUTION: LANDMINES AHEAD' stuck out of the ground haphazardly. The foursome bolted past without a second glance.

[25:19:00]

In the time that our beloved protagonists were sprinting through the explosives-filled forest, Leonardo Brioschi was enjoying a relaxing cup of vodka (were you really expecting anything else? He wasn't about to be caught dead drinking something like tea or coffee, which was for pansies) when a series of distant ground-shaking explosions that might've scored a 6 or a 7 on the Richter scale resounded across the empty lawn.

He smiled. Probably another ten or so recruits wiped out by that one. Two teams had already made it back thus far, and the authorities (him) were awaiting the arrival of the last group. Tch, if it took too long he'd just have to make do with the eight that had already qualified. No big deal to him of course. That would make Brioschi's job a hell of an easier one.

As he returned to his beverage, however, the faint scent of smoke permeated his nostrils.

Brioschi's head snapped up in alarm.

The dry season was upon them, and Vicovaro itself was quite a ways from the sea despite being located in Lazio, a coastal province. Thus, the chances of a forest fire breaking out was…

"Instructor! A fire's broken out!"

"Mio dio, it's headed right this way!"

...pretty damn likely.

The ever patient man he was, Brioschi simply popped half a container of antacids before getting up from his lawn chair to deal with the damage.

.

.

.

Brioschi's jaw dropped.

He had been expecting the line of trees reduced to a year's worth of charcoal, yes.

He had been expecting the Elite Varia Firefighting team (yes, that was apparently a real thing) present, rapidly spraying down the area in a thick white foam.

What the ex-commander had not been expecting, were four dishevelled looking characters bursting through the wreckage of flames and collapsing before his feet, two of which he recognized almost immediately.

"Urgh," Paolo sat up, leg throbbing as he assessed his current situation. "Looks like we made it out alive after all…"

Meanwhile, Rena sprung upon a tinfoil-wrapped object she had valiantly retrieved from the flames with a voracity.

Brioschi was almost too startled to feel disgust as the youth dug into the charred remains of a stale sfogliatelli. Key word being almost.

Regaining himself at last, Brioschi straightened and smirked down at the weary foursome.

"Welcome to the Varia, shitstains."


	6. Welcome to Varia!

How's it going everybody! I'm back with chapter 6!

This took a while for me to write up, so I hope you guys will enjoy it!

* * *

Chapter 6

The remaining 12 recruits were temporarily housed in barrack-like rooms, each filled wall-to-wall with bare-looking bunk beds.

"WOO TOP BUNK!"

Rena let out a hoot as she body slammed the furthest bunk to the wall, the force of the impact violently jostling the wobbly frame and shaking bits of plaster from the ceiling.

Paolo sighed miserably as he hobbled after his energetic friend. Miriam and Alfonso had bid them farewell after their collective discharge from the infirmary, being that all recruits were divided up into different groups yet again.

_ And yet here I am, _Paolo thought bemusedly as he watched Rena sprawl across the laughably tiny bunk, limbs dangling every which way.

Not that he wasn't grateful, of course. He still secretly dreaded being separated from the only friend he had in this place.

"Rest well, everyone." A kindly looking man stood in the doorway as the rest of the recruits settled into their new living quarters. "You all have a long day tomorrow with Instructor Brioschi."

"Who is that…?" Paolo mused aloud. This man was the first kind face any of them had seen since arriving on Varia grounds.

A condescending voice called out faintly from the other side of the room.

"Don't you know anything about the Varia at all? That's the vice commander himself, Ottavio!"

"V-vice commander…?"

Paolo gaped and quickly regained himself, turning to his companion.

"Did you hear that, Rena? If that guy was the vice commander, then I guess this place shouldn't be that bad after all…"

A soft snore drifted from the top bunk in response.

Paolo sighed again, a fond smile spreading across his face. He glanced out the cracked glass panes of a small window at the deepening purple of twilight, and was surprised. Time had passed faster than he'd perceived, or was it because time supposedly passed faster when one was having fun..?

He shook his head of these sentimental thoughts, grimacing a bit. Training began tomorrow. He had to mentally prepare himself, or else-

"SHUT THE FUCK UP, YA PRETENTIOUS BASTARD!"

A leather boot hurtled across the room at breakneck speed, nailing Paolo directly in the left temple.

He lost consciousness almost immediately.

* * *

Renata Andoloro's eyelids snapped open at 6:15 AM, as they did every single morning.

The youth bolted upright and swung her torso over the edge of the bunk to stare at her sleeping bunkmate. Paolo was curled up like an infant, the covers drawn up underneath his nose.

She grinned.

"_ buUUOOON GIORNO! _"

Outside, a flock of mourning doves lifted off the roof in a fluttering frenzy.

On the other side of the property, Mammon dropped the euros he was counting, and cursed under his breath.

"_CHE CAZZO_ _BASTARDO_ I SAID SHUT THE FUCK UP!"

"aCK!"

The shoe-throwing guy from last night lodged his other boot directly into the back of Renata's head. She lost her balance, hitting the floor with an audible thud.

Paolo awoke with what was quite possibly, the worst headache in the history of any medical records on Earth. His ears rang with the intensity of a public high school fire alarm, and his skull had been remodeled into a concert hall made for an orchestra solely composed of construction equipment.

"Uh," he groaned intelligently as the jackhammer began its hour long solo from the back of his head.

From the foot of his bed, Renata lifted her head to display a dazzling grin.

"You're awake!"

.

.

.

Breakfast was something in the likeness of a fever dream, cafeteria-styled eggs over easy whisked off of Paolo's plate almost as quickly as it had been first deposited.

All Varia trainees were subject to the time limit of 15 minutes when it came to the consumption of meals.

"To build character," as announced by Brioschi, to which the shoe-thrower had bitterly translated as "building indigestion."

Renata, on the other hand, did not seem to feel the effects of this time restriction as she vacuumed the entirety of both her plate and Paolo' black-haired youth simply stared blankly as his friend cleaned both the plates and silverware with gusto.

Training was a completely different story.

"Alright shitheads, let me make one thing _ crystal-fucking-clear _ here."

Brioschi paced across before the line of 12 trainees, a metal flask (presumably filled with liquor) strapped to his waist.

"Even as ordinary subordinates, all Varia members are only second in skill compared with the main officers."

His tone lowered, and the instructor glowered from person to person. Paolo shrank from the intensity of his scowl.

"I'm going to be absolutely honest here. As you are now,_ every single one of you fuckers is at least two and a half lifetimes away from getting to that level. _You know what that means?"

His eyes were now surgically drilling holes in the front of every skull. Renata continued to grin blankly.

"It means that I'm going to work every last one of you_ raisin-brained knuckleheads _ until the _ skin peels off of your backs, _ ** _CAPISCE?!_ **"

The group of 12 gave a collective half-shout.

"YES SIR!"

* * *

The rest of the day was, surprisingly, limited to games such as hopscotch, capture the flag, and cops &amp; robbers. The only drawback to this was the 20 lb weights attached to the wrists and ankles of each trainee, along with the threat of a "special training menu" for the losing team.

This "special training menu," as discovered by Paolo and Rena, included 50 laps around the entirety of the Varia headquarters, followed by 500 push-ups, 500 sit-ups, and 500 squats. And to wrap it up nicely, the rest of their night was spent standing outside with a bucket of water in each hand.

The best part of it all? The 20 lb weights were not to be removed throughout the duration of their training.

By mid-June, Paolo was literally so sore that he did not feel sore anymore. He could not recall what it felt like to be free from the constant pain that bombarded his senses endlessly. Even Renata, for all her inhuman strength and endurance, was beginning to feel the effects of this hellish regime.

Her teeth clenched hard enough to make her gums bleed as they stood outside the barracks at night, metal buckets hanging from outstretched arms. Her hands quaked just a tiny bit as she shovelled down food during meals.

Nevertheless, every morning Paolo was awakened with the same cheerfully loud voice and smiling face from the bunk above his. He never ceased to marvel at this, though it was a fact that greatly comforted him throughout their daily lives.

However, when questioned, Renata would simply shrug absentmindedly commenting that she had "gone through worse before."

"I've been through a lot of boot camps y'know," she'd grin, "some of 'em are harder than others and this one's just a little harder than the last one, that's all."

Paolo did not want to know what Rena's past boot camps were like, especially if they could compare to the Varia in any way. But nevertheless, he would nod understandingly.

By the end of July, Paolo legitimately did not feel that sore anymore, but this time it was because his body was now accustomed to its daily routine.

He no longer coughed up blood after the 38th lap.

Renata's hands ceased shaking entirely during breakfasts.

They had both mastered the art of sleeping while standing with a bucket of water in each hand.

A few day's time saw Brioschi scanning over his trainees with relative satisfaction. The room quickly silenced as he approached with an announcement.

"Alright. Since you shrimps have made significant progress these past few months, I've decided that all of you are now ready for the flame attribute test."

The barracks stayed soundless, but every inhabitant was aware of the collective mental excitement resounding throughout that shared space.

'_ Flame attribute?!' _

Renata's grin nearly split her face in half as she shot an excited look at Paolo. To her surprise, she found tears glistening in the corners of his eyes.

'_ I-I CAN'T BELIEVE THIS IS HAPPENING…' _ Paolo wept silently, an unspeakable joy vibrating throughout. ' _ I'm finally going to determine my flame attribute!' _

Brioschi continued, indifferent to the excitement circulating amongst the twelve.

"We will spend the entire day mastering flame control. Proceed to the administrative courtyard in 20 minutes."

Turning abruptly, he strode out without a further glance.

As soon as the bearded man was out of earshot, Renata turned to Paolo.

"What's a flame attribute?"

.

.

.

Paolo pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling sharply as he counted to ten inside of his mind whilst reminding himself that along with being dense as a brick shithouse, Renata Andoloro was also a civilian.

He then turned around and began to explain in elementary terms, the concept of a dying will flame.


	7. Fountain of Dreams

Sorry this one took a bit longer than usual,,, I was having some trouble getting through it haha ^^;;

A note about Ottavio: He is a _canon _khr character and not my oc. He is revealed as the Varia vice captain pre-Cradle Affair in Hidden Bullet: X-Fiamma (one of the Reborn extras)

* * *

Chapter 7

At 9:20 AM sharp, the 12 recruits assembled in front of the marble fountain just outside Varia Headquarters.

The late-summer sunlight glancing off of the continuous crystalline spray lit up the entire courtyard in an array of rainbow hues. Brioschi stood at the forefront, an old man at his side, carrying a slim black case. Ottavio stood off to the side, surveying the entire scene with a faint smile.

"_ Attenzione! _As all of you know, today marks the beginning of your flame attribute determination and training. Talbot here will distribute the testing rings."

The Varia's official jewel designer silently handed a metallic ring to each trainee. The slate gray metal was cool against Rena's skin as she jammed it onto her ring finger. To her left, Paolo slid his on dexterously. The old man coughed, then spoke aloud.

"In order to summon your dying will flame, you must gather all of your determination and focus it into one point. Then, take that point and force it into the ring."

One by one, the twelve recruits mustered looks of concentration as they clenched their fists in an attempt to light their rings.

Some were able to ignite theirs almost immediately, soft gasps filling the air as the cold steel bands lit up in a variety of rainbow hues. Others took a bit longer, straining as though to force the sheer essence of their will into manifestation.

Paolo's ring glowed a rich, quivering, sunny-side-up yellow as he increased his concentration. He let out a yelp of surprise, and the flame sputtered out with a sparkle. The boy grinned excitedly, turning to his friend with eyes as wide as saucers.

"Look Rena! I did it! I'm a sun flame!"

The friend in question was currently too absorbed in her own ring to notice him. As Paolo laid eyes on the dusky purple flame smoldering from within the silver band, he too, fell silent.

Nearby, Brioschi's eyebrows shot up to his hairline.

"A Cloud flame? _ Andoloro _?"

Renata's head whipped around.

"Cloud flame?" she echoed.

Rena could recall from Paolo's lecture that Cloud flames had the property of...propaganda? preoccupation?

"It's _ propagation, _idiot!"

Oh yeah, that. Wait, what did that even mean?

Paolo sighed, slapping a hand to his face. They'd gone over this just yesterday.

"The Cloud flame has the ability to increase and replicate itself."

Brioschi cut in, suddenly appearing before the two.

"Didn't think you'd turn out to be a Cloud, Andoloro."

Renata grinned in response, violet flame flickering wildly against her knuckles.

"Neither did I, sir!"

.

.

.

Flame mastery was next, followed by training with newly issued flame weapons. In the manner which a child learns to ride a bicycle, the two friends slowly gained control over their respective flames.

Yet, fire is a dangerous thing to play with. Children, especially, are frequently warned not to do so. This, Paolo recalled as he watched Renata swing about at her sparring opponent, cackling as the entire length of her forearm was enveloped by a blaze of purple miasma.

He cocked an eyebrow. Was she even looking before punching?

Her terrified partner was dodging left and right as various obstacles around them were decimated with wild jabs from a flame-covered arm. Chunks of marbled tile and alabaster sprang from each jab.

Brioschi ducked and scowled as a particularly large piece sailed over his shoulder.

"WATCH IT, ANDOLORO! You're gonna kill somebody with one of these goddamn-"

_ Crunk. _

The courtyard fell silent as a hefty chunk of marble lodged itself into Ottavio's head.

Rena froze, a sheepish smile creeping across her face.

"_ TWO HUNDRED LAPS! _"

Brioschi's roar shook the surrounding forest hard enough to evacuate every single bird from its tree.

.

.

.

"You know, I don't think I've ever mentioned this since we met," Paolo began as he reclined upon the lumpy mattress of their shared bunk, "but you are honestly the stupidest person I know."

Renata simply chuckled weakly in response, disheveled bangs plastered to her sweaty forehead. Paolo leaned over and plucked the strands of hair off, dropping a clean towel over her face.

"200 laps around the entire Varia isn't so bad, since I have you to take care of me, _ madre." _

The gangly youth laughed as Paolo screeched angrily, swatting her on the shoulder.

Yeah. It wasn't so bad after all.

* * *

Vice Captain Superbia Squalo was feeling extraordinarily smug today.

[insert record scratch noise]

Wait a minute, many of you might say. Isn't Ottavio supposed to be the vice captain? Allow him to explain.

You see, before the "freezing" of Xanxus, the Varia's former boss, Ottavio was his second-in-command. However, due to his absence, Ottavio had now taken over as commander much to Squalo's displeasure.

In his opinion, the man was a sniveling wimp. Squalo himself could easily take out the stand-in commander of the Varia as of right now. The only real reason he hadn't done so yet was the fact that Ottavio was so damn good at sniffing out danger, and he'd probably tattle to the Vongola Ninth before the swordsman could make a move.

Squalo winced internally at the thought. It was much too soon to be getting into hot water with the authorities again, especially with that whole Cradle Affair and whatnot.

Nevertheless, he quickly dismissed these notions and grinned darkly once again. Earlier that morning he'd been treated to the pleasure of witnessing that Ottavio bastard get slammed in the face with a chunk of rock. Which was honestly the most satisfying experience he could recall, besides the feeling of cutting down enemies with his sword.

Who was the recruit that had made his day again? That's right...it was some hyperactive mophead, the tall one. He'd have to personally thank the kid later, and maybe slip some cash under the table for them to cause a few more of these…'accidents' in the future.

The swordsman snickered under his breath as he passed by Ottavio in the hallway. The poor chump's face was bandaged beyond recognition, and if the wheezing sounds were any indication, his nose was probably broken too.

Seriously, that kid deserved a medal of some sort. Squalo made a mental note to himself to think of this when payday rolled around next time.


	8. Paolo, resident Rosetta Stone Substitute

HEY GUYS I'm finally alive again! And this time I've actually prewritten a bunch of chapters that I'm going to spam you guys with! Please enjoy!

* * *

Chapter 8

Upon the realization that Renata did not know the language requirements of the Varia, Paolo had thrown a fit.

"How did you even _get in _without at least _knowing _about the 7 language requirement?!"

Renata laughed, leaning back on her hands as the two sat in the infirmary. Since the discovery of his Sun flame, Paolo found himself regularly assigned to medical duty after training hours due to understaffing on the part of the Recruitment Division.

He glanced at the only other Sun flame in the ward, a stooped little fellow with eyes glued to his smartphone. There had been a surprisingly prominent lack of Suns among this year's recruits, as noted by Brioschi.

"It happens sometimes," he'd shrugged, "one year it was all Lightning flames. You could probably guess how _that _went."

The majority of recruits were, as expected, Storm flames. Lightning followed, then came Rain, and Cloud. There was only one Mist (who turned out to be none other than Alfonso, much to Paolo's amusement) which wasn't that unusual since illusionists were hard to come by these days.

The dark-haired youth shook his head and slammed his hands down on the cheap wood desk. He was getting off-track again.

"Anyways, this is absolutely _unacceptable _."

Renata pursed her lips into a small 'o' and blinked silently.

"Here, let's make a deal. _I _will give you language lessons if _you _help me train so that I can catch up to everyone else while we're running laps."

Paolo stared down at her solemnly and held out a hand. While it was true that his body was now well-adjusted to the rigor of their training programme, he had yet to catch up to his peers in terms of raw physical ability.

Renata grinned, grasping his hand in a bone-crushing shake.

"Deal!"

.

.

.

And thus, the language lessons began.

"So, let's begin with what languages you already know."

Paolo stabbed a forkful of cafeteria eggs, glancing across the table at his friend. Renata downed the remains of her orange juice.

"Besides Italian, my _zio _taught me Spanish while growing up. Let's see, uh…we also learned some English back in _school _."

She made a face as she bit out the last word as if forcing down a terrible poison of some sort. Paolo raised an eyebrow, but refrained from commenting.

"Well, in that case we can begin with Portuguese, which is going to be significantly easier for you since you're already fluent in Spanish. Of course, we're going to have to add on French after that, and maybe some Asiatic languages too."

Rena began to nod cautiously, then suddenly shook her head in disbelief.

"Wait a minute, _seven languages?!" _

Paolo sighed.

"Were you paying any attention to what I said before?"

.

.

.

Training didn't leave nearly enough time for actual language lessons, however. So they improvised. This meant spontaneous English vocabulary quizzes during the 500 laps around Varia grounds, and poring over French flashcards in the dining hall. Renata garbled out translations as Paolo grilled her in Japanese, while they took turns holding the other's feet doing crunches.

"'メアリーは六羊を持っていました' _in Italiano? _" (1)

_"Maria aveva sei pecore." _(2)

"English?"

"Mary has six sheep."

_"Très bien, mon ami." _(3)

Paolo smirked down at his companion. Renata grinned up.

"Switch!"

He groaned, before reluctantly lowering onto his back as she firmly pressed down his feet.

"Don't think this means we're stopping your lessons here though!"

Paolo mustered a glare as he began the curl-ups. The taller youth breathed out a laugh.

"Your lung capacity is getting better, Paolo. Think you can still keep it up after half an hour?"

"_ Você a manter sua boca fechada!" _(4)

"_ Sabes que me amas~" _(5)

In another half month or so, Renata had a decent grasp on the majority of these languages. She was still far from being fluent, but knew enough to understand and speak semi-conversationally.

And thus, their days in training passed in that manner. But it was not to be so for long.

* * *

(1) Japanese + Italian [it might seem arbitrary for me to add in Japanese but it's going to be important later on when we get to the Ring Battles arc]  
(2) Italian  
(3) French  
(4) Portuguese  
(5) Spanish

I used Google Translate for all of these, so please feel free to correct any mistakes I've made (which I'm sure are plenty lol)


	9. Letter Home

Chapter 9

* * *

Vicovaro, 25 August 20XX

Caro zio Romano,

This Varia training camp is a great place! So much has happened since I got here. First, we had a camping trip and obstacle course through the woods (there were a lot of landmines and lasers, haha!) and we ended up running through a bunch of traps before the last landmine set the trees on fire and we barely made it out in time! I also met my best friend Paolo there!

Paolo's a really great guy, and it's funny when he gets mad because I know he never means it, haha! We're roommates now and he sleeps on the bottom bunk. He complains all the time and says that I move around too much at night, but when he gets too loud there's a guy who throws shoes at him (sometimes he throws shoes at me too but it doesn't really hurt that much haha!)

Our instructor is named Brioschi and he's a big and grumpy-looking guy with a huge beard. He made us do really hard things like 500 push-ups and sit-ups and laps around the whole training camp but I didn't give up! It was really hard at first because I had these heavy weight-things tied to my arms and legs while we were playing capture the flag so I kept losing...and Instructor Brioschi made me and Paolo stand outside all night holding buckets of water…  
But even if he yells a lot and makes us do difficult things, I don't think he's a bad person. He always makes sure nobody gets injured too badly and he put Paolo on medical duty to make sure he doesn't get hurt that bad (oops don't tell him I said that or he's gonna get mad, haha!)

Anyways, let me tell you about the some other people in our cabin. First, there's Geraldo, a big guy who secretly brings back leftovers from dinner. He's bunkmates with Frederic, a spunky little dude who likes to collect the shoes thrown by Antonio. Antonio, or Tony as we like to call him, gets angry a lot because our cabin is really noisy. He throws shoes at us all the time, especially at me and Paolo for some reason...He's got reaaallly good aim too! I wonder if he was ever a pitcher for a baseball team…

Our daily schedule changes often, but it's mostly like this (I'll use yesterday as an example!)  
5:00 AM  
We wake up. Well, it's actually just me but Instructor Brioschi usually comes in around this time too. He makes a pretty big ruckus, screaming and banging on the walls for everybody to get up, haha! Thankfully, I'm always ready and dressed by then so he just glares a little or screams at me to get out of the way.

7:00 AM  
After morning exercises, it's breakfast time! Paolo is usually too sleepy to eat so I eat his portion too. Tony complains about the eggs being undercooked but I think they're okay. The time limit is 15 minutes but that's plenty of time for me to finish!

8:00 AM to 11:00 AM  
Training begins! Our schedule changes from day to day, depending on the Instructor's mood. Today we are playing frisbee with the tire of a monster truck. Paolo got hit in the face at least 7 times but the Instructor never lets anyone sit out, so he was passed out on the ground the whole time, haha! This tall guy from the other barracks almost got it past us but I managed to intercept and passed it to Geraldo. That crazy guy caught it with his teeth! Well, he got knocked out after that, but anyways, we won! Actually, we only won one round and had to run laps for the rest of the day, but we still won!

12:00 PM to 7:00 PM  
Paolo woke up in time for lunch, and we ate at the cafeteria. We're given a 15 minute break for bathrooms and water before we finish the rest of our laps. We usually finish around 7 and then it's off to dinner! Tonight we have a weird mix of meat and warm dough with parsley on the side. It's nowhere as near as good as your cooking of course, zio, but you know that I'm not very picky when it comes to these things…

8:00 PM to 9:00 PM  
After dinner, us new recruits either hang out in the Wreck Room or around the barracks. Paolo says the Wreck Room is short for "wreck-reation" but that doesn't make any sense to me… I think "Wreck Room" fits better, because that room really is a wreck! There's a really big hole in the wall, because this one time we were having a punching contest and I wanted to join, and I got kind of carried away...hehe! Sometimes we share stories from home and sometimes we just complain about the Instructor. It's really fun though, and I always get a good laugh before lights out at 9 o'clock!

This camp is a lot more different than the other ones I've been to back in Ardea. Yesterday during the water break, I overheard some of the other people talking about a big end-of-training event coming called it spaghetti dinner night and it's supposed to be a big party or something. I can't wait! Ah, but I'm sure the spaghetti at the party can't be more delicious than yours, zio!

Speaking of spaghetti, how are things back in Castagnola? Is the restaurant busy this time of year? There must be a lot of tourists since it's summer, huh!

I just wanted to apologize...for saying all those terrible things to you, Uncle...I was angry and stupid. I know you were just trying to help me. I'm sorry I couldn't say it to you in person but I promise that as soon as I get back, you can do whatever you want! I'll wash the restaurant floors for as long as you want me to! Please forgive me zio, I really didn't mean it.

I will keep you in my thoughts as always!

Stammi bene,

Renata

* * *

Paolo gently deposited the piece of paper back onto his bunkmate's pillow, a stone of guilt settling at the bottom of his stomach.  
That's right. He'd completely forgotten to tell her about the Varia, and what it actually was.

He kicked himself mentally, cursing his carelessness. Paolo would never admit it out loud, but the past month or so was the happiest he'd been in a while. He'd never expected the unbearably harsh training, the lousy cafeteria meals, or the cramped living quarters to have been so….fun. But somehow, Rena with her infallibly optimistic attitude and enthusiasm, seemed to surround them with an atmosphere of adventure.  
Paolo could almost close his eyes and pretend that he was on a trip to summer camp instead of receiving recruitment training to join the mafia.

But… He glanced reluctantly at the letter sitting on the top bunk. I can't just hide the truth from her like that… it's bound to come out eventually.

"Heyyy there you are, Paolo!"

A familiar voice rang out from the doorway of the barracks. Paolo flinched, and hastily deposited the slip of paper back onto his bunk mate's bed.

"Ah, Renata! What is it?"

She bounded over, grinning as usual.

"It's lunch time, c'mon! Don't want to miss out on the cold cuts before Geraldo takes 'em all!"

Paolo laughed, a sudden wave of relief washing over him. Perhaps he was being too paranoid about this entire matter after all. He tended to overthink these things too often, so maybe it was better to just let it be for now.

"Let's go then!"

He allowed himself to break out in a grin that matched hers in intensity as they raced out of the door and down the hall, echoing with laughter.


	10. Dressing Room Blues

heh...what did i tell you guys ;3c the spam hasn't stopped yet!

* * *

Chapter 10

It seemed that the entire universe was conspiring against Paolo's attempts to tell Renata the truth of the Varia's nature. Every opportunity he'd struggled to create for himself was seemingly ripped away from him at the last minute by a series of random and inexplicably bizarre events.

Ever since he'd accidentally read that letter to her uncle, Paolo could never seem to catch a moment alone with his energetic companion. Last Thursday, Geraldo had promptly decided to start a secret lasagna party the minute lights out was called, right as Paolo was ready to begin his apology.

The entire ordeal lasted until 2 in the morning, and he'd passed out at breakfast the next day. Monday in the medical ward caught him with a shoe in the neck, courtesy of Antonio, who happened to be napping there to skip training. After that it was the sudden appearance of overly zealous gardeners &amp; lawn mowers. And then rabid woodland animals. This morning, a small chunk of burning rock nearly clipped him in the nose as he approached her during a water break.

Paolo was now sufficiently terrified enough to finally give it a rest for the time being.

.

.

.

As the weather began to cool outside (which drastically helped in reducing the almost impenetrable wall of body odor sealing off the dingy barracks), Brioschi came by with another announcement.

"_Attenzione!"_

The crowded cafeteria table quickly silenced and its members snapped to attention. Brioschi allowed a brief look of satisfaction to flit across his brows before resuming his speech.

"As many of you may already know, the simulation final exam is rapidly approaching."

Rena's hand shot into the air, as usual. Brioschi ignored it, as usual.

"You will be briefed on the details later," he continued hesitantly, "but first, there is someone I would like to...introduce."

A wave of confused murmurs was quickly dispelled by collective gasps as a petite woman stepped out from behind the scowling instructor.

"_Ciao!_ I'm Sofia Costello, your fashion coordinator! Please call me Sofie for short~"

The table went dead silent, but the very same thought echoed through the brain of every trainee.

_Fashion coordinator?!_

Paolo paused in his surprise to shut Renata's open jaw, which had dropped onto the table with an audible thump.

"_Scusi istruttore, _but what kind of mission is this?"

Paolo, ever the spokesman of their ragtag little group, boldly voiced their collective inquiry.

"This mission requires formal wear! So I'll be the one coordinating your outfits." Sofia piped up, stepping forward in an attempt to obscure his view of Brioschi. It worked about as well as if one had attempted to obscure an Easter Island statue with a garden gnome.

The gaggle of recruits turned to Brioschi with imploring gazes quite reminiscent of lost ducklings, to which the large man pointedly avoided with a cough about misplacing his vodka and quickly excused himself from the scene.

"Well then...it looks like I'll be in charge for now~"

Sofie's smile suddenly seemed to cast a long shadow across the table of 12 recruits.

The hapless souls had barely time to protest before being whisked away into a world of fine silks, tape measures, and pinstripe suits.

.

.

.

"Paolo, look!"

Rena's ecstatic yelps jolted the youth from his troubled thoughts, and he glanced up. He lifted an eyebrow as he was met with the sight of his lanky companion in an oversized pinstripe suit and slacks.

She struck a pose reminiscent of a stereotypical 1920's mobster and shot him a grin.

"Heh, how do I look?"

Aside from looking completely ridiculous as expected, Paolo did have to admit that she made quite the character, with the typical gangster slouch and drooping trouser socks. It was almost charming, in the same sort of charm one would find in a seedy car dealer.

"Yoohoo~ miss Rena~?"

Both friends looked up as Sofie's whimsical tone drifted down the hallway.

Paolo was suddenly aware that the two of them were alone in the storage room.

_Now was the chance!_

Panic began to set in as Renata began to turn towards the doorway with an eager grin on her face.

"Wait! Rena I have something to tell you-"

"_Sto arrivando, bella~!"_

The shorter of the two let out a frustrated exhale as Rena charged down the hall, striped hat flying off in her excitement. He sat back and crossed his arms angrily.

_How did that woman manage to get into Rena's affections so easily anyhow? And actually calling her bella too?! _

"Heheh, don't sulk _patatino._"

A hand fell on his shoulder, which caused Paolo to pout and sink further down in his chair.

"I'm not sulking, Alfonso. Go away."

The older man cocked an eyebrow and held his hands up in surrender.

"Yikes! Don't bite my head off! I just came to tell you that Brioschi is gathering us for briefing."

Paolo finally stood up, his features straightening into surprise. The realization that the simulation exam was here hadn't truly sunk in up until now.

As he stepped through the double doors to the grand hall, that realization socked him in the gut with the sight of a golden ballroom floor bedecked with varnished oak tables and crystal chandeliers strewn across a ceiling of patterned skylights. This was it. The initiation ceremony of every Varia reinforcement member. A gathering of sunglasses-clad men in sleek suits became apparent in his peripheral vision, a manifestation of a grim reminder.

Paolo had to tell her before it was too late.

* * *

Heheheh...Paolo's jealous~

anyways,

A few notes!

_sto arrivando, bella _= I'm coming, beautiful

_patatino = _potato (a common nickname of affection given to Italian children by their parents/some other older relative)


	11. Spaghetti Dinner Night

FIRST of all, before we begin, I would like to thank NightmareAx7 for their generous review last chapter!

I'm sure as you fellow writers out there can understand, nothing makes our souls burn brighter than feedback from our readers!

so please, if you have the time-drop a little something in the reviews! Be it criticism or praise, I'd love to hear what you think!

anyways, please enjoy this new chapter!

* * *

ch. 11

6:00 PM

As the sun grew a scarlet orange that stretched long shadows across the beige brick of the open courtyard, lines of brand name cars began to pull into the concrete crescent that led up to the marble stairway.

A lush velvet carpet unfurled into a rouge pathway up to the open doorway, a perfect half-oval of golden light framed by double oak doors.

Indiscriminate men in black suits and white gloves opened car doors and stood at attention beside the reception. A variety of well-dressed figures trailed up the steps in a ceremonial line. The distant sounds of an orchestra tuning trailed from deep within the estate.

A lovely evening.

The tinkle of crystalware and porcelain gently intermingled as the fragrant honeysuckle did the scent of bubbling champagne.

The stage was set.

.

.

.

8:00 PM

Paolo scowled for what seemed like the twentieth time that night.

The 12 recruits had been once again, broken into groups. Each team consisted of 3 trainees to one instructor, who was to monitor their behavior and report their performance. 4 teams-Alpha, Beta, Gamma, and Delta-were stationed in each cardinal direction.

Through sheer luck and for consistency of the plot, Paolo found himself in familiar company. He surveyed the scene surrounding him in the dingy security room with tired eyes.

Alfonso (ever the smug bastard) was unsuccessfully attempting to flirt with an unresponsive Sofie,who was lovingly latched onto Rena's elbow. To her frustration however, the gangly youth was currently too busy scarfing down some stolen hors d'oeuvres to pay her any sort of attention.

He smirked internally, in a petty sort of self-satisfaction. Paolo had been the one to steal that plate of bruschetta.

The young man turned his attention towards the grainy cctv setup in the corner of the darkened room. Low definition broadcasting of the lavish feast taking place outside did nothing to help uproot the seed of anxiety that had begun to germinate within the pit of his stomach.

That, or perhaps he'd had one too many appetizers on his way to the security room.

Alfonso, perhaps tired of his fruitless efforts, came to sit beside Paolo.

"Ah, what's with the troubled face again? Cold feet?"

The younger man turned to him with an absolutely miserable look.

"There's so many people...how are we supposed to remember who we've been assigned to protect?"

Alfonso's grin widened as he let out a tsk-tsk, accompanied by a wag of the index finger.

"There aren't that many people, really. In fact, there are only 4."

Before Paolo could ask, he waved a hand across the security monitor. The image of the live orchestra and seated guests all but disappeared, leaving 4 figures scattered across the many rows of round tables.

"Wh-"

"Illusions, my boy."

The man cocked a grin, swirling an indigo dusted fingertip in the air. Paolo felt his mouth form the small of an 'o.'

.

.

.

10:00 PM

As the last words of the dinner speech faded to the smatterings of applause, the tinkle of wine glasses and the beginnings of a waltz filled the space of the grand hall. The sky had grown dark long before, and the crystalline gleam of chandeliers scattered diamond ghosts across the indigo of the skylights above.

A ways from the procession taking place, the youngest Varia officer perched upon one of the many stone gargoyles decorating the rooftops of the ornate mansion.

To put it plainly, Belphegor was bored out of his mind.

There had been no new missions since Ottavio had taken over. Meaning, no missions that required enough violence to keep his interest.

Although that Xanxus did give off the impression of a caveman at times, Bel had to admit that the guy did know how to cause a real scene. This, he was grateful for, as long as more heads were to roll by his hand.

The young officer surveyed the distant merriment with interest.

The simulation exam, eh?

It was pretty convenient, really. He could probably sneak in and kill a couple of newbies without anyone noticing. Besides, they probably had enough as is. They would do well to think of it as a favor from their Prince, trimming the fat like that.

He breathed a little laugh into the night air, and took off to join the festivities occurring yonder.

.

.

.

11:00 PM

It happened quite suddenly. From within the building, there was a deep, distant sort of humーthen every light inside the building flickered, and died.

The orchestra screeched to a stop, and a wave of anxious murmurs rippled through the crowd of guests.

"It's time."

Sofia spoke, stepping forward.

From within each of their respective stations, teams Alpha, Beta, Gamma, and Delta began to their respective operations.

"!"

The confused muttering of the crowd erupted into shrieks of terror as the stagnant night air was abruptly punctuated by a series of gunshots and shattering glass.

The four members bolted outside in a flash. Rena backpedaled as she slammed into the opposite wall, before charging towards the dining hall. The panicking crowd proved a formidable obstacle in the dark, even as staff and security put forth tremendous eaiffort to ease the hysteria.

"Found him!"

Alfonso shouldered his way through the mass of moving bodies, a careful arm around a frail-looking old man. His face matched the identification photo in Paolo's jacket.

This was their man.

Another round of gunshots resounded, a little closer this time. The four members turned in time to see a shadowy group of figures drop down from a broken skylight. Even at a distance, one could obviously tell they were heavily armed.

"Paolo. Miss Rena. You two go ahead."

Sofia took on an offensive stance, arm snaking into her coat to withdraw some hidden weapon.

"That's right. We'll take care of these fellows."

Alfonso did the same, both hands seeping with an indigo smoke. Both their rings were aglow, velvet Mist and flickering Lightning.

Paolo turned to Renata, who currently had the old man over her shoulder like a sack of flour.

"Got it. Let's go, Rena!"

.

.

.

Belphegor let out a low whistle as he stepped through the wreckage of glass and wood. The instructors were pretty spot-on with their gangster act.

It wasn't that he didn't enjoy senseless violence; he was a genius in that aspect, after all. But Belphegor was a prince, and so in that aristocratic sort of way, he enjoyed it as an art. Everything had to be done in a tasteful fashion.

Like so, he thought, and sent a silver blade whizzing into the darkness. A surprised gurgle and a heavy thud echoed back, much to his satisfaction.

"Shishishi...this isn't half bad~"

He slipped another knife between two fingers and began a slow stroll into the darkened hall, footsteps clicking quietly along the polished floor.

* * *

I had to cut this chapter down in size when I realized how huge it was compared to the others ^^;;

hopefully it doesn't feeltoo short for you guys!


	12. Encounter in a Dark Hallway

Hey! I'm finally back, whew! This chapter is a bit longer than the usual ones + a bit darker too ^^;;

I'm not very experienced with writing action scenes, but I gave it my best!

Please enjoy~

* * *

1:00 AM

"Paolooo~ Are you guys done in there?"

Renata's face was currently mashed against the outside of the men's bathroom door, further scrunched in a childlike pout. It had been approximately 2 hours since they'd fled the dining hall with the guest, and the old man had emphasized his urgency to seek out the nearest lavatory almost immediately after. Paolo, bless his unfortunate soul, was forced to supervise this action.

"No, not yet! He says he's constipated!"

Perhaps the fireman's carry really doesn't sit that well with a 70 year old who'd just consumed five consecutive plates of fettuccine alfredo. Nevertheless, the noxious odors seeping from within the bowels of the darkened restroom was enough to send Rena reeling back with disgust. She quickly recovered with a shake of the head and cupped her hands around her mouth.

"Wha~t?! I thought he said he had diarrhea!"

" _Shh! Just keep quiet and stand guard out there! We'll attract too much attention with all this shouting."_

Paolo's muffled voice was tinged with audible exasperation, even through the heavy steel of the bathroom door. Renata cracked a grin and leaned back against the wall, hands linked on the back of her head.

It felt nice to have those 20 pound weights removed, she mused, swinging a leg up to cross her shins.

Of course, all the trainees had gotten used to them after a month, but actually taking them off was an unimaginably blissful feeling.

Even if they were "under attack" right now, the entire mission had been fun for Rena up to this point.

Man, hopefully Paolo and the old man would be out of the bathroom soon. She was really starting to-

_click._

Something resounded from around the corner to her left. Renata's head whipped around.

_click._

Something was not right. Something was coming, and that _something _sent electric chills up her spine.

_click._

Her intuition was screaming at her to move, to run, to _do something, danger was coming this way, and-_

Renata's hand shot out reflexively to grasp the sphere handle of the bathroom door.

The cool metal crumpled like an aluminum can beneath her fingers, and the frame gave a yawning screech as the sheet of steel peeled away, hinges popping.

With a barreling twist, the youth sent the entire door hurtling down the darkened hallway.

2 AM

Belphegor smirked amusedly as he strolled down the dim corridor. A trail of crumpled bodies lay behind him, each sporting a trademark silver knife. It was too easy, as he'd expected.

However, no amount of prodigiousness could've prepared him for the flying metal door that slammed into his gut as he rounded the corner.

The sheer momentum sucked the air from his lungs as his back crunched through the plaster of the wall. The whiplash tore stars into his vision.

He gave a surprised cough, and something warm dripped from his cheek. Something warm and wet. Something…

"U-Ushishishi...what's this?"

.

.

.

Renata straightened up as the solid impact of the projectile echoed back from the end of the hallway.

"What the fuck are you doing?!"

Paolo's shell-shocked face emerged from within the dented frame of the doorway. However, his initial surprise quickly melted into trepidation as he focused on Rena's expression. It was the first time he'd seen her afraid since they'd first met.

"Paolo. You need to take him and run. _**Now**__."_

Her voice was hoarse, barely audible.

Paolo could feel ice beginning to settle through his marrow.

"But-"

She gave him no time to respond, roughly grasping both of them by the arms and shoving them down the other side of the hall.

The young man stumbled as he turned back towards her, clutching onto the old man's elbow.

"Ushishishi...ushishishishishi…. _**how dare you spill the blood of a prince.**_"

A flurry of blades whistled through the air, glinting silver in the moonlight streaming from the hallway windows. The trio cringed and ducked, only to be greeted with a metallic screech as the knives glanced off of the glowing blade of a saber.

"Sofie!"

Paolo yelped, jumping up. The petite woman sheathed her sword.

"Paolo? Miss Rena? What are you doing here? I thought I told you to evacuate the guest-oh god..."

Her glance trailed towards the opposite end of the corridor, jaws suddenly slack with horror.

"Oh god...what is _he _doing here? Oh no... _no no no no _this can't be happening, this isn't how things were supposed to go!"

Her hand flew up to the communicator in her ear, before hesitating and latching onto Paolo's arm instead.

"We need to escape, NOW. That's Prince the Ripper. No one here stands a chance of surviving against him! I'm reporting this to Brioschi as soon as we get to safety."

A whizzing knife embedded itself in the floor at Paolo's feet.

"Shishi... _where do you think you're going? _"

Renata stepped forward. Her face was grim.

"You guys run. I'll buy us some time."

"Rena," Paolo's tone wavered, and he grasped her shoulders gently. " _You're shaking."_

The disheveled youth clenched her trembling hand and smiled up at him.

"Don't worry about me, _madre _. I'll catch up with you guys later, ok?"

Sofie suddenly grabbed each of the men by the arm and bolted away, towards the stairwell. Behind them, Renata dropped to the floor and narrowly dodged a series of knives that thunked into the wall behind her.

There was no choice. Sofia Costello would not have all three innocents die on her watch. She had to preserve what life she could. At least that was what she repeated tearfully to herself as they sped away from the scene of carnage that was undoubtedly to follow…

.

.

.

Belphegor's vision was a haze of red and black. He could barely make out the silhouette of his opponent; all he could comprehend was the adrenaline coursing through his veins. It roared in his ears, it hissed through every tendon and fibre of muscle: _Kill! Kill! Kill!_

The knives left his hands as soon as quickly as they were drawn. He charged forward in ecstasy, roiling with pure killing intent.

4 AM

Renata Andoloro, for once in the short span of her time on Earth, was absolutely fucking terrified. Every nerve in her body screamed for her to _run _, but she forced herself to turn towards the unseen enemy.

Rapid footsteps echoed from the darkness across the hall, and a figure burst from within at a dizzying pace.

As another round of knives whizzed past her nose, Renata discovered in herself, a newfound appreciation for Brioschi's implementation of knife dodgeball during the course of their training.

_Che cazzo, will this guy ever run out of knives?!_

The youth desperately glanced about the wreckage for any objects that could be used as a makeshift weapon, but the next volley of blades sent her diving for cover inside the ruined bathroom.

The stench made Rena gag as she quickly scoured the dingy lavatory for potential weapons.

_Let's see...soap...towel dispenser...aha!_

Wrapping both hands around the sink faucet, she yanked upwards.

Outside, Prince the Ripper wrinkled his nose in confusion at the sudden stench of sewage. However, his bloodlust had not diminished in the least, even as his opponent slid out from a pool of wastewater with a metal pipe in hand.

Renata wasted no time in a forward rush that angled a heavy swing upwards. The knife guy had only been utilizing ranged attacks so far, and although she had no way of telling whether or not he had a melee weapon, Rena was willing to take the risk.

That risk indeed bore consequences, as Belphegor easily dodged the blow and retaliated with a handful of knives lodged into her arm.

With no time for a second swing, Rena lunged wildly and body-slammed the other with the entirety of her weight.

The combatants locked into a fierce struggle for a few heated minutes before Rena broke away, fresh wounds blossoming from her shoulder. The pipe was used as leverage for escape, smashing into the knife-wielder's knee with a sickening crunch.

To her repulsion and fear, the damage dealt out to her enemy was only successful in inducing laughter of a more maniacal degree. This fucker was literally inhuman.

Renata panted heavily, blinking fresh blood out of her eye. Her vision was starting to waver. This was not good, she was losing too much blood. She couldn't afford to drag this on any longer. Her attention settled upon the large marble column protruding from the corner.

As Prince the Ripper rose unsteadily to his feet and started towards her once more, Rena took a running start before sliding between his legs like a batter sliding into home.

Before her opponent could react, she gripped the blood-slick pipe and swung towards the pillar with the last of her strength.

The impact tore her left arm out of its socket and caused a violent shudder throughout her entire body. A deep crack snapped the marble column in two and with a whining creak, the entire structure toppled.

A paralyzed Belphegor was unable to pull himself out of the way before the stone pillar crashed through the floor, taking him with it. The bottom half ripped through the window panes of the very same floor, and a seismic shudder ran through the entire building.

The metal pipe slipped from her fingers with a clatter as the ground caved in beneath her feet.

.

.

.

Across the expanse of training grounds, inside the 6th floor of the Varia mansion, Superbi Squalo looked up from his desk as a distant rumble rattled the panes of glass inside his window.

He bolted up from his seat, snatching up his coat. It was much too early in the year for thunder.

* * *

I tried making it as evenly matched in injuries as I could lmao ^^;;

Rena is definitely outclassed here in a fight with a Varia officer, so I had her rely more on tricks than actual combat experience. Through sheer luck (and for the sake of our story here) she's managed to survive this one...although it'd be very unlikely in another situation if Belphegor hadn't been caught off guard like that lol

Ah, enough of my rambling! Please drop a review if you have the time, and lml what you think!


	13. Aftermath

Sorry for the sudden break in updates;;; writing seems to be getting a lot slower lately ^^;  
I'm trying to continue updating regularly along with preparing college applications so it's been kind of a hassle lol

A few notes before we begin: I know i referred to Squalo as the vice-captain before, but vice-commander will be used as well and the two will be interchangeable throughout the rest of this fic.

Anyways, please enjoy!

* * *

Chapter 13

5 AM

As a cloud of dust settled around the crumbling remnants of the West Wing of the facilities building, a gaggle of onlookers began to gather on the sidelines.

Brioschi's large form pushed through with long strides, Sofia and Paolo hot on his heels.

"What the hell are you fuckers standing around for!?"

His infuriated roar sent the wide-eyed survivors scrambling. Leonardo screamed further obscenities into a crackling walkie talkie. Paolo could barely make out demands for search dogs and a medical team to be dispatched.

_"Paolo! Get over here!" _

The shock coagulating through his being seemed to lift long enough for him to hear Sofie's distant voice. He broke into a sprint towards the source of her voice.

Sofia was crouched over a pile of broken concrete, furiously clawing through the rubble. Horrifying realization dawning upon him, Paolo dropped to his knees and joined in with an equal amount of desperation.

Their efforts were rewarded with the beginnings of a dusty boot attached to a torn pant leg. A weak cough sounded from the rest of the pile, and the form of a battered youth was unearthed from the wreckage.

"Haha….boy is it good to see you guys…" The limp body, with its torso a bloody mess and arms hanging from an unnatural angle, wheezed out a laugh.

Paolo's voice caught in his throat.

"...R-Rena?"

His dusty companion winced and heaved a rattling breath.

"...think m' ribs...broken..."

Sofie scrambled to her feet behind them.

"I-I'll go get help! You s-stay there and don't m-move miss Rena!" Her voice wavered with the tautness of unshed tears.

As her rapid footsteps faded, Paolo turned back to Renata. His right hand lit up with a quivering yellow, and he placed it across her stomach.

She let out a relieved wheeze as some of the gashes on her shoulder began to close, leaving lines of clots in their wake. However, the effort was stopped only after her left shoulder, leaving a panting Paolo clutching his arm from the effort.

"H-hey Paolo...it's okay now, you can stop. _Grazie. _"

Renata tried to reach over and grasp his hand, only to let out a pained choke as she realized both her arms were broken.

"Andoloro? _Cristo santo, _what the fuck happened back there!?"

Brioschi quickly approached the two friends, Sofia right behind him with two more recruits carrying a stretcher between them.

"We were attacked by Prince the Ripper, sir. Renata held him off while Paolo and I evacuated the guest."

Sofie held up a blood-stained silver knife. It matched the multitude of others protruding from Renata's arms.

Brioschi paled and ran a hand over his face.

"_ Dio mio, _so it was him..."

He turned to the two recruits with the stretcher.

"Hurry and get her to the infirmary! There's other survivors who need medical attention. Oh, and Andoloro..." Brioschi glanced back over his shoulder, "...don't think you're out of hot water just because you're injured."

Before he could walk off, however, a tall man with long silver hair stalked through with an ear-splitting shout.

"_ VOOII! AND WHOSE FUCKING FAULT IS THIS?!" _

For the first time since entering the Varia, Paolo thought he saw Brioschi afraid. The instructor immediately turned and saluted neatly.

"_ le mie più profonde scuse, vice comandante, _there were unexpected complications."

"UNEXPECTED COMPLICATIONS MY ASS, _STRONZO _!"

Wait a minute. Did he say _vice commander _? Paolo did a double take and rubbed his eyes before squinting at the person in question. That man bore no resemblance to Ottavio whatsoever.

Could something have happened in the short span of time since their induction…?

The silver-haired man did not stop for breath as he continued his hail of insults.

"And who exactly is going to take responsibility for this shitstorm, HAH?! How do you plan on explaining **_this _**to Ottavio?"

The furious man gestured wildly to the wreckage behind them. The entire roof of the West Wing had caved in, leaving crumbled walls reaching towards the predawn sky.

"You better thank your lucky stars that _Boss _isn't here right now or I'd tear you to bits with my OWN DAMN HANDS _, brutto figlio di puttana bastardo- _"

"Wait."

Renata sat up with the help of both feet hooked underneath a large piece of rubble. Paolo put out a hand against her back as she coughed with the force of the exertion, blood bubbling from her lips.

Both men turned towards her. The vice commander cast the youth a condescending look.

"S-Sir, Instructor Brioschi isn't at fault for any of this. It was all mine. I'm the one who did it."

Squalo's eyebrows shot up. He let out a surprised scoff and whipped his head back to take in the scene of destruction that lay behind them. The silver haired man put his hands on his hips and fixed the injured recruit with an incensed glare.

"_ YOU did this?! _What, you think I'm a fucking dumbass or something? You really expect me to believe th-"

Squalo's eyes swept over the knives glinting from her arms, and the breath left his lungs. He stepped forward and snatched one up, eliciting a pained choke from the victim.

He held it up to the light and let out a hiss of disbelief.

"_ Porca puttana, _why the fuck is _he _here?!"

Without looking away from the blade, the silver-haired man snapped his fingers. Almost immediately, a smiling man with half-shaved green hair stepped up from behind them.

Paolo noted with curiosity that he wore sunglasses despite the fact that the sun had yet to rise. His curiosity turned to mild panic as the smiling man took off his gloves and placed both hands on Renata's shoulders.

And then the sun rose.

It came in the form of a golden yellow glow that streamed forth from the man's hands and washed over the broken body of the near-unconscious youth. It poured through every crack in her bones as they shifted and snapped together with muted gurgles beneath her skin. Renata shuddered violently as the rapid cell-regeneration forcibly tore her body from the brink of collapse.

As if expecting it, the green-haired man pulled her loose hair back as she rolled onto her side and vomited a mixture of blood and bile. When she stopped gagging, he hoisted her up underneath one arm as though she weighed nothing more than a loaf of bread.

Squalo turned back to Brioschi.

"You better throw in an extra prayer of thanks, _coglione. _It seems that you're off the hook this time."

The two strange figures then walked off without a word, leaving the trio gaping after.

* * *

eh, I won't bother with the translations for Italian curses this time bc I feel like it's pretty straightforward by now ^^

Just for clarification: Luss did some really quick on-spot healing (which I'm sure he's capable of even without a box weapon at this point) that Paolo was unable to do (since he has significantly less experience and power.) To answer your questions: no, she's not completely healed. He simply healed her to the minimum point where she will not die. It's going to be a pretty long road to recovery for our little Rena :(

Anyways, drop me a review and lmk what you think?


	14. An Unexpected Query

HEY GUYS...I'M BACK FROM COLLEGE APPS HELL...

i can't even say anything bc of how bad i feel for being on hiatus all the time so unexpectedly...;;;;;; what i can say tho, is that you've all been such a womderful &amp; patient audience for sticking with me for so long!

Thank you everyone! I'll continue to update frequently as possible!

Please enjoy this chapter~

* * *

Ch.14

Renata awoke with a cottony mouth and a feeling that someone had attempted to vacuum all of the organs from her body while she was asleep.

The peeling beige wallpaper of the infirmary greeted her blurred vision as she attempted to blink open her crusted eyelids.

"Rena! You're awake!"

Paolo let out an excited yelp as he shot out of the chair beside her cot.

"Miss Rena's awake?!"

Sofia rushed in through the doorway, nearly dropping her thermos of coffee.

"Andoloro, you're awake."

Brioschi appeared from behind the frazzled assistant.

"Guh," Renata responded rather intelligently.

"Hey, hey, let's give the kid some space here!" Alfonso hobbled in on a pair of wooden crutches. "She's been through a lot of shit in the past two days."

Sofia and Paolo sheepishly made way, but Brioschi stood his ground.

"Andoloro."

Rena blinked up, attempting to focus on his face. Multicolored shapes swam about the edges of her vision.

"I want to let you know that what you did was quite possibly, the stupidest, riskiest, most insane shit anyone in your position could've done."

Paolo and Sofia winced with each enunciated insult, but the dazed youth simply sat with a disoriented squint.

He heaved a sigh, before continuing in a surprisingly earnest tone.

"But I have to admit. What you did was damn right. Staying behind to take on a mass-murderer alone may have been the most suicidal thing I've ever fuckin' heard, but to protect your teammates and your client? That was a damn heroic thing to do."

Renata's mouth formed the small of an 'o.' Brioschi turned to the other slack-jacked occupants of the room before they had a chance to respond.

* * *

"As for the rest of you-congratulations. Based on Assistant Costello's excellent report, you've all passed the simulation exam."

Relieved chuckles filled the room, and Paolo dropped back into his seat as Alfonso hobbled over, slinging an arm around his shoulder.

"You hear that, patatino? We made it, haha! Once this leg heals up, your uncle Alfonso'll take you kids out to celebrate!"

Paolo sank into the hard plastic of his chair like a mass of uncoordinated jelly. The events of last night had finally begun to take their toll on his body. Rings of dark purple seeped outwards from under his eyes. His cheeks, a usually healthy shade of olive, took on more of a sallow hue.

Sofie put a sympathetic hand on his shoulder.

"Why don't you go take a rest? I'll watch over miss Rena."

Paolo blinked up at her. She wrinkled her nose condescendingly at his surprise.

"You could really use a shower."

He managed a weak laugh, attempting a friendly punch and missing by a good foot and a half before tumbling out of his chair.

Sofie gave a frustrated groan before helping him to his feet and escorting him out of the room.

Renata managed a weak smile at their antics. She was also glad for the heavy presence of morphine circulating throughout her bloodstream at the moment. Both these things helped take her mind off of the seemingly perpetual ache of her bones.

The strangest thing was that they didn't seem to be broken. The bedridden youth stretched out an arm experimentally. The tenderness of new flesh and ligament was sore to the touch, but the pain went only skin deep.

There must have been an extraordinarily talented Sun flame user. She made a mental note to find that person and thank them later. Her arm dropped back down with a soft flop against the hospital bed.

* * *

_In an adjacent room_

"VOOII! Exactly. what. was. going. through. that. THICK skull of yours last night?!" Superbi Squalo enunciated each word with a sharp jab to the lump beneath the hospital blankets.

The lump in question had been all but deaf to his angry lecturing for the past hour. The vice commander heaved a sigh, before dropping into the metal chair behind him and taking a swig from his half-empty Red Bull.

This kid had always been a loose cannon, but Squalo honestly hadn't thought him one to revert back to such irresponsible behavior at a time like this. It was that fucker Ottavio's fault. That weakling was nowhere near qualified for leading an organization like the Varia. It wasn't that Squalo wasn't qualified enough to lead, just that the damn Vongola Ninth's had them under his thumb since the Cradle Affair seven years ago. If only Xanxus wasn't…

_Shishi...ushishi..._

A muffled giggle shook him from his thoughts.

"Voi, cut that shit out!"

Squalo gave the lump an angry jab, which only elicited more laughter.

_Ushishishishishi!_

The vice commander shot to his feet and whipped the covers up and off of the bed.

"Don't FUCKING try me, you little-"

Squalo's voice died in his throat as his gaze rested upon the patient resting upon the hospital bed.

Belphegor was motionlessly sprawled across the bed, limbs heavily bandaged. He was surprisingly conscious for the sheer amount of sedative being pumped through his veins via the IV stand resting next to the heart monitor.

Despite the unnatural stillness of his body, the young officer was quickly muttering and giggling to himself in a half-deranged ecstasy.

"_Ushishishi...you won't get away next time, you little **cockroach**...no one escapes the Prince! Nobody nobody nobodynobodyn-"_

Superbi Squalo, being the practical man he was, promptly threw the covers back down, walked out of the room, and firmly locked the door behind him.

* * *

Rena's gaze turned towards the speckled patterns of the ceiling above as the faint hum of the fluorescent lights washed the thoughts from her fatigued mind. Despite her physical exhaustion, Renata was too afraid to sleep.

Flashes of silver and blood sliced across the darkness of her mind every time her eyes slipped shut.

She opened them even wider, an act of rebellion against her own sleep-deprived body.

Oh, this was starting to dry out her eyes. Maybe she could blink more to compensate.

The determined youth blinked rapidly.

Heheh, it looked like one of those old black and white movies.

"Voi, get up."

A dark shape suddenly blocked out the dingy hospital lights overhead, interrupting her morphine-induced musings.

Renata stopped blinking and squinted up at the intruder. The man who had spoken sported an important-looking black uniform and long, silver, hair. A deep scowl rested upon his face.

Ah, this must be some sort of superior. Man, she should've taken Brioschi more seriously when he warned her about getting in trouble with the authorities. That's ok though, she'd been sent to the principal's office plenty of times back at school. Just had to get it over with quickly.

"Follow me."

The tall man turned abruptly on his heel as she managed to slide her legs over the edge of the bed. Rena lunged for her IV stand, before hobbling after him on unsteady legs.

They garnered a variety of strange looks in the procession down the main hallway, most of which were quickly extinguished by Squalo's steely glare.

The Varia officer's boots clacked audibly across the marble tile, a stark contrast to the soft footfalls of the haggard youth trailing behind him. Renata's teeth chattered as her bare feet dragged along the icy floor beneath. Her fingers ached from grasping the smooth metal of the IV pole as a makeshift crutch she'd resorted to using in attempting to catch up with the officer in front of her.

As they reached the end of the hall, he stopped abruptly and pulled open a single-panel white door. Renata startled, painfully slow steps shuffling to a halt. She hadn't noticed the door there before, as it blended into the white of the surrounding walls almost imperceptibly.

The silver-haired man seemed rather anxious, glancing about uneasily for possible witnesses before quickly hustling her through the narrow entrance.

The door slid shut with a quiet click, fading back into the pristine white of the surrounding walls.

* * *

The interior of the room was no more than that of a small office, or a particularly large walk-in closet. The only furnishings included bare table with two chairs. A single lightbulb hung from the low ceiling.

The tall man sat down at the table, before motioning for Rena to take the chair from across.

She did so, with great difficulty. The IV stand barely fit with the height of the ceiling, and Renata was forced to slide it along at a 45 degree angle.

The silver haired fellow cleared his throat, before steepling his gloved fingers atop the table.

"Renata Andoloro, was it?"

Rena gulped, suddenly nervous. She didn't really care that she was in trouble again but...what if they decided to call her zio?

"Y-Yessir!"

Squalo cocked an eyebrow. Wow, Brioschi really had these newbies whipped.

"You were the fucking suicidal fool who fought Prince the Ripper during the simulation exam last night, and totaled the entire West Wing of the guest hall, correct?"

Renata paled at the memory, unconsciously reaching towards her ribs, which had laid shattered beneath her torso just the night before.

Squalo ran a hand across his face.

"Look. Under normal circumstances, a fucking newbie like you would've been executed for even attempting an attack on a Varia officer-"

"T-That was an officer?!" Rena gave out a surprised yelp, nearly knocking over her chair.

The vice commander did not pause to acknowledge her.

"-But you know what, kid? I'm willing to make an exception for your case."

Renata blinked.

"...Huh?"

He leaned in on his elbows, throwing discreet glances across each shoulder.

"Listen. I've got a favor to ask of you. But first, let me explain the history behind this whole fuckhouse of an establishment."

Rena leaned forward in her seat with an eager grin. She loved secret stories! The kids at school used to share a lot of those, but never with her.

"You know that snooty fucker Ottavio? He's not actually the real boss of this place. Seven years ago, the real boss, Xanxus, tried to take over the Varia's parent organization. All of us officers were with him, of course. Heh, we almost pulled it off too."

The man spoke with great pride in his voice, as if recounting a fond memory. He then paused, expression darkening.

"We didn't actually succeed though. And when they got us, they got us good. Boss was the one who suffered the most."

His hand clenched into a fist.

"Seven years now, he's been kept hostage in the Ninth's fucking basement and there's not a single damn thing any of us can do about it. I swear on my grave it was that smug son of a bitch Ottavio who ratted us out. And now that he's been appointed Captain, the Ninth is using him to keep us under watch. If any of us Varia officers so much as lift a finger, he'll rat us out in no time flat."

Renata absorbed the information with the efficiency of a Hoover vacuum. So even boot camp instructors faced such drama within their institutions! She squirmed excitedly in her seat.

"Ooo...so what do I do?"

Squalo shot her a smug-looking grin.

"This is where you come in, kid. Y'see, since the only Varia members Ottavio keeps an eye on are us officers, a little nobody like you is the perfect person to carry this out. I'll make this simple: I want you to break Xanxus out of the Vongola Ninth's basement."

The youth nodded along excitedly, before breaking out into a confused expression.

"Wait...me? Why me though? I mean, I know it's so that I won't get in trouble but-"

Squalo held up a finger.

"One: no one around here gives a fuck if a little newbie shrimp like you goes missing. Two: a shrimp like you is completely expendable. If you fuck up and get killed I'll just find somebody else to do it. And three."

He counted off on the fingers of his prosthetic hand, stopping after each point for emphasis.

"Three. From what I've seen of your little fiasco last night, I've got a feeling that you just might be capable of pulling this off."

It had been a while since he'd seen Belphegor reduced to such a state of bloodlust. The scrawny youth sitting before Squalo didn't look like much, but if there was anything Bel was good at, it was gauging the strength of his opponents.

Renata was glowing with pride from the unexpected praise. And here she thought she was in trouble!

"So...we have a deal?"

Squalo extended a glove across the table.

Rena grinned and grabbed the outstretched hand.

"You got it!"


End file.
